


Ateez Through the Hourglass

by im_jaebitch



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Gen, parallel dimensions, this was my subpar entry in the fever storyline event, time travel?, um o e o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_jaebitch/pseuds/im_jaebitch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Ateez Through the Hourglass

The dull thunk of basketballs hitting the ground drifted to San's ears as the car sped down the street. He sighed softly into the wind, mindlessly making out shapes among the pink clouds that dotted the sky that was painted orange and purple by the setting sun. He was sick of his life - fed up of the demons that haunted his mind and the voices that screamed inside his head.

It was the boy in the orange pullover, standing on the sidewalk and looking around like he was searching for someone, who snapped San out of his reverie. It felt like time slowed down as the two locked gazes; a shudder passing through his body as he noticed the raw confusion and dismay etched on the boy's face. Neither looked away, both intrigued by each other, until the car breezed past and forward, leaving something akin to desperation brewing in San's guts.

" _ Get out _ ," his mind screamed at him. " _ Get out of here. _ "  


He made a decision.

Spurred on by the sudden burst of adrenaline, he gripped the handle of the car door as the traffic light flashed red. His guts clenched as the car stopped, hyper aware of his surroundings. The seconds dragged on for what seemed like hours as the colours switched to yellow and finally green, and just as the whir of the accelerator sounded, he threw open the door and jumped out.

There was a screech of tyres and a shout, and a lot of honking that followed. San ran in the direction of the boy in the orange pullover, as fast as he could. He desperately hoped for the boy to be there, not knowing why. There was something that pulled him to the other, and he let his instincts take over. " _ Maybe he can help _ ," he reasoned with himself. " _ I hope he can help _ ."

"Excuse me," he manoeuvred past the pedestrians, "I'm sorry."

" _There he is_ , " he thought to himself as he spotted the boy amidst the crowd. With greater fervour, he pushed himself forward, towards him. But suddenly, he was overwhelmed with blinding pain in his shoulder as he collided with someone.

He fell towards the ground, time seeming to have slowed down yet again. An hourglass fell out of the man's pocket, the sand swirling in the constraints of the glass. The world spun around him as he hit the ground face-first. There was a crunch of bone breaking, but all he could see through the rush of blood to his head was the hourglass that remained unshattered. It rolled to a distance and stopped, the sand still swirling, defying all known laws of gravity. He could not feel his body anymore, and with much effort, he looked at the stranger who was covered from head to toe in black, silver chains dangling around his neck. A pale finger lifted the fedora to reveal his masked face, and San shivered at the intensity with which the man stared at him.

" _ Who are you? Why is everything spinning? Why am I paralysed? What the hell is happening? _ " he screamed, but nothing escaped his mouth. " _ Is that a ship?! _ " he wanted to say, eyes widening as the clouds moved together in formation in the sky. The world spun faster, his vision blurring at the corners. The only thing that remained constant was the stranger looming over him.

The voices in his head went crazy, screaming and crying out every insecurity, every fear he ever faced. " _You're a failure. A disappointment. Nothing you do will ever be worth a dime! _ " Blood pounded in his ears. And then there was a sigh, breaking through the noise.

" _Can you hear those voices?_ " a soft voice reverberated inside his head, drowning the screams to a dull thump. " _You're not alone. Live through the stories of the others. You have a choice. It will be your decision. _ "

Everything went dark.

~

Radio static.

The rhythmic tick of a clock.

He slowly opened his eyes, squinting as he adjusted to the dark. His breath felt restricted, his head heavy. He moved his head to the side, not processing the sight of the bodies that were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, their necks snapped. He looked the other way as his eyes drooped, barely making out the silhouette of the blond man walking away before the world faded to black.

~

Yeosang shook himself out of his daze.

He kicked at a pebble as he walked down the empty street, watching as it rolled and bounced and disappeared out of sight. He looked up, scoffing slightly at the cloudy sky. " _Look up at the stars in the night sky_ , " his elders always said. "What a bucketload of nonsense," he mumbled to himself.

" _ Looks like it'll rain _ _,_ " he thought as a cold wind blew. He rubbed his arms to keep warm, suddenly aware of the frosty chill that had settled around him. He looked up at the clouds, muttering a soft, "what the-" as a lone snowflake landed on his nose.

It was the middle of summer.

Another snowflake caressed his face, and a third and a fourth. Yeosang was running, utterly freaked out as the snow fell harder and faster. Turning round a corner, he stumbled on something. Something glinted silver at the corner of his eye, and letting his curiosity get the better of him, he crouched to pick up the broken shard of glass off the ground.

He locked eyes with his reflection, and suddenly, he was no longer on the street.

Bright, icy blue light filled his vision.

He opened a cautious eye, finding himself crouching on a floor of frosted glass. He climbed to his feet, pressing his hands all over the walls of the glass box he was entrapped in. Panic bubbled in the pit of his stomach as he realised there was no way of escape. "Help!" he screamed, banging his fist on the wall. "Someone get me out of here."  


" _He will go to college and then work for the government,_ " a faint voice drifted to his ears. " _No, I want him to enlist in the military and serve the country,_ " another voice said. " _He will be the best doctor the world has ever seen!_ " a third voice said.

" _Dance? Sing? Why would you do that, son? There's no future for you. Take your books and study for your entrance tests. You need a good rank to get into your dream university, don't you?_ "

He hit the glass in desperation. "Get me out of here," he cried. "Please."

A handprint made itself visible on the other side of the glass. An unfamiliar face came into view, his chiselled face grim as he stared Yeosang down.

"I don't know who you are, but please let me go," he begged.

"Open your eyes," the man said.

Yeosang frowned. "Huh?"

"Open your eyes," the man insisted.

" _Is this a dream?_ " he thought to himself.

" _No, it's not. Open your eyes!_ " the man screamed inside his head.

Yeosang woke up with a start.

All alone, in the middle of a desert.

~

The desert was infinite, nothing in sight save for the rocky terrain and the countless sand dunes.

He trudged on and on and on.

~

_ The stairs seemed endless. _

_ He dragged another foot up the staircase, heavy from exhaustion. There was no end in sight, and he was getting fed up. He did not know where else to look for, what else to do. His guilt was eating him alive. _

_ He lifted another foot, his muscles crying in pain. And another. And then his legs gave away. _

"Ow," Jongho yelped as something hit his head hard.

Sitting up straight, he looked around the empty basketball court. The receding sound of a basketball hitting the ground garnered his attention. " _Who hit me?_ " he wondered.

He remembered passing out on the floor after an intense session of practice. Taking one of the balls, he resumed shooting it through the basket when a brass horn sounded somewhere behind him.

He whipped his head around, just in time to see a figure in black disappear down the street. He did not expect the basketball to hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun, and he hit the floor.

" _I thought you were my friend_."

"I am. I am sorry," Jongho cried.

" _You watched as they beat me up. You did nothing._ "

"I wanted to. I-"

" _Yet you did nothing._ "

"I am sorry. I am so sorry. I was afraid. Please forgive me."

" _You were my only friend. You didn't help me when I needed you. You said you would, but you didn't_."

Jongho whimpered helplessly.

" _You could have stopped them._ "

"I am sorry. Please don't go."

" _It was your decision. Now it's mine. Goodbye._ "

The figure disappeared in the maze of fabric. Jongho dropped to his knees in front of the mirror, watching tears stream down the cheeks of his reflection.

~

Mingi turned away from the mirror, the handful of bills gripped tightly in his hand. He cleared the newspaper classifieds and pamphlets for part-time jobs, fishing out the tin box where he kept the meagre amount of money he earned on a day-to-day basis.

He could hear bubbly laughter float in through the window of his rickety studio apartment. "Mom enrolled me in figure skating classes!" a girl exclaimed in delight. "It has always been my dream to join the national team."

Dreams.

Mingi did not know what those were. It was only the privileged who dreamt of bigger things in life. People like him didn't have time to dream, busy scraping their lives from the ground to survive.

A sudden feeling of unease crept up his spine, goosebumps rising on his skin as he felt someone behind him. At the corner of his eye, he noticed a shadow slowly creep beside him.

Balling his fists, he turned suddenly, swinging his arm to punch the intruder. But all he hit was air. He whipped his head around - there was no one in the room.

"Was it the curtain?" he thought out aloud, body slumping in relief. But it seemed like he said it too soon, for something, or rather someone shoved him from behind. He missed his footing, stumbling forward as he fell towards the mirror, arms coming up reflexively to shield his face from hitting the glass.

However, there was no crunch if breaking glass, nor the impact of shards piercing his skin. He picked himself off the floor, eyes widening at the ring of fire that blazed around him. "Where the hell am I?" he muttered to himself as the flames licked closer and closer.

The flames grew bigger and brighter, sending sparks up into the air. He watched in horror as the flames took nondescript shapes of the people he served. " _The pizza's all cold_ ," the man in the fire said in a raspy voice, " _what a disappointing service. Tch, get out of here._ "

" _Hey, counter boy! I've been waiting for five minutes. Where's my damned food, you idiot?_ "

" _Hey, look at this. It's the weirdo who can't afford shoes. How pathetic!_ "

"It's a nightmare. It's just a nightmare - none of this is real." he mumbled. "If I open my eyes, all of this will be gone."

" _Poor_ ," the voices grew louder. " _Pathetic_." " _Lowlife_."

Over the din, a clearer voice broke through. "Choose," it said. Mingi snapped his head to his right, eyes widening at the sight of the man in black, his face hidden under a black mask and a fedora.

"No, choose," another voice said. He looked towards his left, eyes widening further as the man in white stepped into view. Unlike his counterpart, his face was covered with a delicately embellished silver mask.

"Choose," the two masked men said in unison. The flames drew closer, almost engulfing Mingi. On a whim, he faced the man in black. "You," he answered in a daze. "I choose you."

"Good boy."

The flames were gone suddenly, and Mingi found himself stranded on a boat, floating across a ceaseless water body with its banks nowhere in sight.

~

The captain steered the ship, compass gripped tight in his free hand. He kept looking at the map over his shoulder. His crew were passed out on the deck from starvation and utter exhaustion.

The island had to be somewhere near. He was sure of it.

~

_ He put the stack of papers down on the wooden desk, sighing in annoyance. There was no trace of the person he was looking for. _

_ He had gone through every paper, every file. There had to be some evidence of the man somewhere. But where was it? _

_ The lights flickered overhead. He looked up, brow furrowing in confusion. Was the voltage acting up again? _

_ The monitor screens on the other end of the room switched to life out of the blue, the sound of static filling up the eerie silence. _

_ He climbed to his feet, approaching the screens slowly. The monitors glitched with a greater frequency. He picked up the sound of muted dots and dashes amidst the buzz of static. Someone was trying to send a message through morse code. _

__

_ · · · · – – · – – – – – · – – – · · – – – · _

__

_ "Say my name?" _

"Yunho? Son? Are you there?" the police officer asked, snapping the boy out of his reverie. Had he fallen asleep with his eyes wide open?

"Ah yes, sir. Just thinking," he said, unsure. He was looking for someone in his dream. Had it been his brother?

"You've been coming to the station everyday, son. I know you're worried, but if we find any updates on your brother, I will be the first to inform you. I have your number, don't I?"

Yunho nodded. "See you later," he said to the man before walking out of the station. A tear rolled down his cheek as he trudged listlessly down the street.

"Where are you?" he said to the wind. "Come back home."

It had always been him and his brother against the world. The younger dreamt of going far in life, and Yunho, being the good elder brother he was, hyped him up no matter what, until the younger's passions were his own.

Until that unfortunate day when the young boy disappeared without a trace.

His life held no meaning without him. They had been inseparable, their bond so strong and pure. His brother was his world. How was he supposed to carry on with what he dreamed of without the person behind it?

He twisted the twin bracelet the younger had given him on a birthday long past. "I hope you're unharmed," he whispered brokenly to nobody.

~

"- _while I was walking home, I picked up this shiny brass trumpet lying on the street. I think someone from the marching band dropped it. It's really pretty with this red flag tied to it. I'll ask around if anyone lost it. It looks quite expensive :(_ ," Hongjoong noted down in his diary.

Closing the book, he picked up a rag, dipping it in cleaning solution and wiping the trumpet clean. He brought it closer to his mouth, closing his eyes and huffing in a mouthful of air.

"Here I go," he thought as he pressed his lips to the mouthpiece. However, no sound came out.

A strong gust of wind rattled the windows. The lights flickered and went out.

"Oh my god, is it a storm?" he thought out loud. He lighted a candle, placing it on his table and blowing out the matchstick. As he turned to throw it away, he jumped back into his chair, eyes widening at the sight of a man in black, face covered with a mask and a fedora.

"AAAAAAAAH!" he screamed in fright. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice shaky. "How did you get in here?"

The masked man took a step towards him, holding out an hourglass. "Take it," he said.

"Huh?"

Another step. "Take it. Find your treasure."

Warily, Hongjoong plucked the hourglass out of his hand. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he raised his head to look at the man, but he had disappeared.

The lights came back on.

"What the hell?!" he shrieked.

All of a sudden, the sand began to flow upwards. "What the hell? What the hell?" he yelped as he threw it away. The room blurred around him, and he found himself standing in the middle of giant clock, the hands running anticlockwise. The view blurred again, and like a motion picture, different scenes began to play out.

A warehouse. Dead bodies strewn about.

A desert. A lone figure trudging slowly up a sand dune.

A lone figure, manning the helm of a ship all by himself.

A man, bound in chains, suspended in mid-air.

A man, sitting on an armchair, blue butterflies fluttering around him.

Finally, his room, the trumpet lying on the floor, neglected.

" _There are countless dimensions in the world_ ," a voice whispered in his ear. " _How do you want your fate to play out? Choose. It's your decision._ "

And then, Hongjoong was drowning. Small bubbles escaped his mouth as the light above him dimmed further and further.

" _Hongjoong_ ," a suspiciously familiar voice drifted to his ears. A familiar yet unfamiliar face took form in his mind's eye.

"Seonghwa?" he muttered, but only bubbles came out of his mouth.

" _Hongjoong_!" three voices called his name excitedly.

"Yeosang? San? Jongho?" he wanted to say, but he did not know who they were.

" _Hey, Hongjoong!_ " another voice yelled.

"Yunho?"

" _Hongjoong, wake up!_ "

"Mingi?"

"They can't hear you," a different voice said. "Take the helm. It's your responsibility now."

"Wooyoung."

Silence prevailed.

~

_ A small hand. A faceless girl. _

_ "Hey, get up!" she said to him. _

_ He couldn't remember who she was, save for her faint scent that reminded him of home. He looked at her, squinting to make out her blurred features, but to no avail. _

_ A silver chain dangled from her neck. _

_ He knew that chain. He had it. _

__

_ They were in middle-school. _

_ There was her hand again, outstretched towards him. _

_ "Get up," she said. _

_ He took her hand and pulled himself up. "Thanks." _

_ The girl shook her blurry head. "What will you do without me?" _

__

_ They were in high school. _

_ "I'm sorry," he said to  her. _

_ "I'll always pick you up. Don't worry. I'm stronger than you think," she said. _

_ "That you are." _

__

_ And just like that, she was gone. Without a trace. _

_ Somewhere in the distance, waves crashed against the shore. He picked up on the sound of muffled voices speaking lowly near him. A clock ticked ominously by his ear. _

__

_ "Will you be my friend?" a little girl's voice asked him. _

__

_ The voices grew louder. The waves crashed harder against the shore. The seconds dragged on longer. _

__

_ "Open your eyes," a woman's voice said. _

__

_ He knew that voice. _

"Open your eyes," a familiar voice whispered.

Seonghwa's head shot out of the water, gasping for breath. "What the hell, Wooyoung?! You scared me," he said.

Wooyoung cackled. "You've been in the water for so long. Come on, let's get you to the beach."

The two made their way to the shore, the others already sprawled out on a rug as they feasted on watermelons. A pair of shoes hung from the lamppost by the beach. Seonghwa frowned.

"Where's San?" he asked.

Wooyoung froze beside him. The other five looked at him in confusion.

"Who's San?" Hongjoong asked.

~

"What do you think?" Wooyoung asked.

"I didn't expect that," San said.

"Have you decided?"

"Yes, but I have a question."

"Ask away."

"Why?"

Wooyoung sighed. "I gave up on the easy way out to be with my friends. I don't know whether things will go my way or not; it probably won't. But this is my life now. I'll only think of this. It was my decision, after all."

San nodded solemnly.

"So," Wooyoung said after a pause. "Will you join us?"

"You bet."

Wooyoung climbed to his feet. "See you in another time, San," he smiled wistfully as he stepped towards the exit.

"Hey, wait a minute. You dropped this," San held out a bracelet.

"Oh, thank you," Wooyoung took the bracelet. "My brother would be upset if I lost it."

With that, he left the room, six blue butterflies flitting after him.

~

"Our time's nearly running out," Hongjoong said, looking at the last grains of sand hit the bottom of the hourglass.

"You know what to do, captain."

"Ready to find our treasure yet again?"

"Aye, aye, captain!" seven voices shouted in unison.

Hongjoong grabbed the hourglass and turned it upside down.

The horn of the ship blared as it pulled out of the docks.

The Pirate King set sail, once again.

~

_Fin._


End file.
